


Pushing Boundaries: The Circle

by fudgernutter, kaitatatertot



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Crushes, F/M, Female Friendship, Female-Centric, Friendship, Journal Entries, Magic, Mischief, Pre-Canon, Prequel, Templars, Young romance, kids doing kid things, young mages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4737962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fudgernutter/pseuds/fudgernutter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitatatertot/pseuds/kaitatatertot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life in Kinloch Hold is about as dull as dishwater, why not try to make the most of it.<br/>Follow two young Elvhen mages as they live their young lives to the fullest (or well,  as full as they can).<br/>Full of magical nonsense and a lot of people being fed up with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Magelings

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Soul has Bandaged moments](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3272444) by [insideofadog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/insideofadog/pseuds/insideofadog). 



> Thank you all for stopping by to read this fic!  
> As the tags suggest its a bit of a prequel to the other games,  
> an...introduction of sorts to our protagonists.  
> We hope you enjoy and don't be afraid to comment.
> 
> Some of the beginning chapters will be short, but they will lengthen in time.
> 
> With that said, please enjoy Pushing Boundaries: The Circle

News in the circle always spread like wildfire; especially when rumours of new mages were whispered from the Templars. Soon the entire Ferelden Circle was abuzz with slight excitement. Even if the tower was a prison, seeing a few fresh faces was enough to endure the lifelong sentence and make it a little less terrible.

 

It was rumoured that today the new mages would be introduced into the circle. Anaise, a five (or was it six?) year old elvhen mage who had been in the Circle since what felt like birth, hoped that one of the new mages would be her age, or at least nice to her. Most of the mages in the Tower were older humans who ignored her (and even the handful of other children didn’t care for her), the only nice one was Senior Enchanter Irving.

 

The mageling sat at the long table in one of the few classrooms and slowly memorized letters, words, phrases (like, yes ma’am, no sir, magic is meant to serve man, not control him).  

  

In the middle of the lecture the teacher was interrupted by a commotion in the winding hall. The sound of mages scuffled down the corridor towards the main room.

 

_The new mages had arrived._

 

Anaise popped out of her seat and scurried out of the classroom, chanting in her head “please give me a friend, oh please oh please!”

 

Templars guarded the main entrance like a wall of armor. The doors opened with a deafening creak and more Templars poured in, surrounding a pitifully small band of mages. Anaise ducked and weaved her way through the crowd, hoping to get a glimpse. As soon as she broke to the front, her green eyes widened. In the front of the small group was another elvish girl about her age. Her brown hair was sloppily tied in a braid and her clothes gave away that she must have come from the Denerim alienage.

 

 

* * *

 

Sienna thought her legs were going to fall off if she took another step. She had been walking for three, maybe four, days since the caravan was attacked by bandits. The details were a haze of sound in her mind since another mage had covered her eyes from the fight. But none of that mattered now, she was in the Ferelden Circle in the center of Lake Calenhad, and even more important, there was another Elvhen girl with short red hair and strange pale markings on her face gawking at her.

Sienna smiled a little, the first time in what felt like ages.


	2. Fire, Ice, and Armor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking your time to read this fic!

“And what did you two get into  this time?” Knight-Commander Gregoir scowled at the two young mages, now ten years each. Anaise smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of her head while Sienna sniffled and patted at where her hair once was.

 

“I’m going to ask again.” He nearly snarled.

 

“I-I was practicing a fire spell…” Sienna hiccuped.

 

“And it got out of hand and her hair caught fire! So I used ice to put it out!” Anaise piped up.

 

The Knight-Commander sighed and rubbed his temples. He reached for the small sheath at his side and drew a small knife. Gregoir knew the magelings were learning how to harness their power (as stated by the First Enchanter) but it was best to at least show what happens to unruly mages, especially with the newest idea from the Chantry about slowly introducing younger Templars-in-training to magelings to see if that would lessen attempted rebellions (bullshit he would mumble in his office).

 

“Ser...K-knight-Commander? Wh-What are you going to do w-ith that knife?”Sienna asked, the scorched mageling wriggled in her seat terrified. But Gregoir did not speak and instead grabbed Anaise’s arm and pressed the tip against her skin. He mumbled a soft chant, the dagger faintly glowed, and the ginger mageling felt what little reserve of mana drain from her. Sienna gasped and whipped her head over to the door, thinking of escaping.

“But that would get me in more trouble…”  She thought as the tip of the dagger poked her upper arm. She winced and gritted her teeth as mana slipped away.

 

“Back to your quarters.  I hope you understand the consequences of your actions.” He sat back down at his desk.

 

The two young girls nodded weakly and staggered away.

 


	3. Trial and Error

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look! A longer chapter!
> 
> But thank you again for taking your time to read!

Cullen Rutherford twitched nervously as the carriage bumped along the road, all the other boys seemed rather enthusiastic for the trip to the Circle, but not him. No sir, after all the lessons and exercises about the Maker, the Sins of Magic, mages, and combat, the Templar in training had no desire to be next to a fully capable mage at only the age of 16.

This new experiment was implemented by the Chantry to see if having younger mages be supervised by Templars (while the trainees shadowed their superiors)  would in a sense desensitize them to the “natural fear” towards Templars and in return lessen the possibilities of rebellion. It was a last ditch effort on the Chantry’s part to try and calm the churning waters within the Circle.

However the plan was not entirely foolish. The young mages and Templars would be isolated from the older mages, and there would still be enough senior Templars on patrol to keep things under control should a problem arise (not that there will be, Cullen told himself over and over and over).

* * *

 

Being told to pack your bags and stumble down to the floor below first thing in the morning is not something Anaise or Sienna wanted to hear. The sun had barely risen (or were the shudders just drawn?) and all mages between the ages of 13 and 18 were rounded up to move from their normal dormitories.

“Wonder what the tin cans are telling us to do now…” Sienna yawned and scratched her head.

“Think they finally decided to execute us all?” Anaise rubbed the sleep from her eyes and glared at one of the Templars leading the small group away. The disoriented mages nearly stumbled down the spiral stairs into a set of unused dormitories or an unused dormitory. At the bottom of the steps stood a band of what appeared to be squires wearing tabards with the Chantry’s emblem. Most were young men, now nervously poking at their blades and glancing at their superiors.

* * *

 

So these are the mages, Cullen thought and straightened his posture (show no fear, his instructor had told him) and a hand on the hilt of his sword (you are in charge). The mages looked  no more different than anyone else, and yet the Chantry had described them as “walking countdowns to abominations”.

There was a great pause of silence before a senior enchanter stepped out and ordered the mages to pick bunks and head to the grand room in the center of the level. The mages all murmured and quietly headed out as ordered.

As the mages dispersed a flicker of green caught his eye. He whipped his head to find the source was an elvish mage about his age staring off into space; her eyes were flickered weakly one last time before she grumbled, and another elvish mage (also his age) slowly led her grumbling companion away, looking rather concerned.

As the elves stumbled away, Cullen swore he heard one mumble “Stew” under her breath.

* * *

 

“Stew...Stew again. I hate stew.” Anaise poked her spoon at the offending material in her bowland scowled; it had been a week since the new trial began and nothing seemed different than before (except for the apparent influx of stew being served at meals).

“Didn’t you say you saw this coming though?” Sienna dipped a piece of bread in her bowl a few times before taking a bite.

“I was hoping it was just an exaggeration.” The ginger mage heard armor softly clank behind her and swung herself around to see who it was.

One of the new Templars (Cullen, she remembered) stood stoically against the wall. She poked her friend on the arm and pointed at him. He looked a little famished, which was only confirmed when his stomach growled softly. Anaise felt a little bad for the guy, did he skip breakfast? She tore off a small chunk of Sienna’s loaf and tossed it at the Templar (who caught it looking uncertain).

“Eat. You look starved.” She smiled faintly before jolting when her name was called by the senior enchanter to report to his office. Anaise dropped her head and glanced at Sienna with a look that said “He’s so hungry” and looked at the other young Templars “They all are”. She rose from the bench and glanced at Cullen (who looked mildly confused) before tossing the whole loaf at him.

That simple action started a raging food fight with mages hurling loaves and spoonfuls of stew at the stationed Templars.

When the senior Templars rushed in to subdue the fighting, they only found the young mages and Templars laughing around the long table, covered in crumbs and globs of thick stew.

* * *

 

“You realize we are supposed to be fasting right?” Cullen picked a crumb  from his slightly unruly curls.

“Don’t care, I’m hungry.” Another young Templar, Alistair, snickered and nearly shoved a whole loaf in his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We forgot to mention that this story will deviate from canon,  
> (within reason though), and you'll definitely see these deviations  
> when we get into the other parts of the story (Such as The Blight, Exodus, and Inquisition).


	4. Broomsticks

And it was cleaning duty this time. They had been shooed out of the auxiliary Library due to being a “distraction” and removed from the kitchen for making a “mess” and they had already tried to reach the Gardens on the upper floor, but none of the older Templars were having it right now. Well anyway, cleaning duty. Sienna and Anaise were stuck in one of the hallways of the Tower cleaning. The latter one with a mop and small pail of water, and the other with a broom and dustpan. Together, they did make marvelous time, even if most of it was spent gripeing and hitting each other with the handles of their cleaning utensils.

As they rounded the corner to the staircase, (okay, it wasn’t a corner, there were no true “corners” in the Circle as it was, quite literally, a circle) they came upon a Templar who was trying very hard not to laugh at their poor attempt at sword-play. They couldn’t see who it was due to the helm, but they knew it must be one of the friendlier, and younger,Templars if they were laughing and not yelling.

“Don’t laugh! We don’t have the fancy training you do!” Anaise remarked, sticking out her tongue at the Templar.

“Well that “fancy training” comes standard when you join you know.” It was Cullen, who was snickering wildly at their antics. He pushed up the visor on his helm, and smiled at the two. “Really, if you guys even tried to fight a knave they’d have you on your bums with the way you’re holding those things.”

“Then teach us Cullen!” Sienna said, only to be followed by Anaise’s hooting agreement.

“Uh, I-I don’t think so. I shouldn’t even be t-talking to you guys,” Cullen stammered, looking around the hallway to see if he was caught.

He was soon surrounded by the two mages chanting “Teach us, teach us” while prodding him with the ends of their mop and broom.

“No! I don’t-I don’t think its- Ah fine! Just stop hitting me with those blasted things!” Cullen huffed, crossing his arms.

“Yes!” The two mages cheered. 

“Alright, first off, mops and brooms are nothing like swords, they’re more like Pole-arms, but if you’re going to use them like swords, you have move your hands down here,” Cullen started grabbing Sienna’s mop and demonstrating. “You’ll have a better hand on it like that. Second, it’s nothing like the show fencing they do in Orlais. You move around, and unless you have a shield, you don’t block. And finally, you have to be smart about it. Its not all ‘oh bash his head in’, it’s looking for advantages and using your enemy’s movements and weight against them. And don’t forget to keep your eyes on your opponent! For instance, Anaise, come at me.”

“Uh… what?” Anaise retorted, looking dumbstruck.

“You wanted to learn didn’t you? Come on and swing at me!” Cullen taunted, smirking a bit at her dumbfounded expression.

“Oooo, Anaise, he’s calling you out!” Sienna laughed. 

Anaise frowned then, sighed. She adjusted her grip on the broom to look more like Cullen’s. “Here I go!” She shouted before closing the few feet between them and taking a side swing at his torso. Cullen quickly stepped backwards, causing Anaise to stumble, then swung (Softly! He swore it was softly!) his makeshift weapon one handed onto Anaise’s bum, forcing her to fall face-first into the rocky floor.

Anaise made a rather incomprehensible noise while Sienna only laughed harder. Cullen rubbed the back of his head and mumbled, “Sorry”, before reaching down and helping Anaise up. His face flared red as she took his hand.

“Ahem, well yes. Uh, that’s uh, that’s pretty much it. That and practice,” Cullen said, giving Sienna her mop back, looking like all he wanted to do was to be absorbed into the wall.

“Yes! Prepare yourself Lady Anaise of the Fiery Hair, for I, Madam Sienna of the Burning Wood, shall defeat you in battle!” Sienna announced in a voice meant to sound like that of some of the Orlesian noble and assumed a (very poor) stance.

Anaise snorted and took her own stance, mimicking Sienna’s poorly imitated accent and retorting, “Nonsense Madam Burning Wood, I of the Fiery Hair shall retain my honor and defeat you! En garde!”

And so the two went at it, beating each other with broomsticks while shouting taunts in poor Orlesian accents. Yet as the mock sword fighting degraded into literally pummeling each other as hard as possible with the handles, Cullen couldn’t help but smile. The two weren’t  technically  breaking any rules, and they had cleaned a majority of the floor, so he was sure that allowing them have some fun would be okay.

Cullen was just starting to get comfortable with the situation when Sienna landed a particularly nasty blow to Anaise’s… bosom. He then felt the first pull of magic.

“You froze a chunk of my hair!” Sienna shrieked.

“Well you hit my breast, you butt!” Anaise growled back.

“Fine! If that’s how you want to be-” Sienna growled and sent a small fire spell back at Anaise, setting the bristles of her broom on fire.

“Sienna!” Anaise shrieked, and started bashing the quickly burning broom against the floor.

“What in the Maker’s name are you two doing?” Cullen barked at them, quickly moving to where the two mages were shrieking over the now icy broom. “No combat magic unless its sanctioned by the Knight-Commander!”

“She started it!” The two retorted in unison.

“I don’t care who started it, no more!” Cullen ordered (Oh man, he ordered them to do something.)

The two mages shared a look before Sienna knocked Cullen in the knee with her mop handle. Anaise quickly retrieved her own weapon and whacked him in the thigh.

“What are you doing? Stop it!” Cullen huffed. Anaise and Sienna snorted and they both poked him with their handles once… twice… “Maker! Stop it!” 

And then, of course because magic could not be used without someone noticing in the small Fereldan Circle, First Enchanter Irving came stomping round the bend with two Templars on his trail. “I felt magic! Is everything alright?” He asked, gasping for breath.

“First Enchanter!” Cullen started, stepping in front of the two, now still and silent, mages. Irving wide panicked eyes turned to slits and his mouth thinned into a straight line as he looked between a flustered Cullen, Sienna’s frozen hair, and Anaise’s smoldering broom.

“Ser Rutherford, would you mind telling me exactly what transpired here?” Irving asked, voice gravely quiet.

“Well you see Ser, the two were mock-fighting and then it turned to… real… fighting,” Cullen mumbled.

“Of course. And may I ask why you didn’t stop it when it started?” 

“I thought… thought that it would be okay?” 

Irving was quiet for a few long seconds. When he opened his mouth, he was obviously livid. “Ser Rutherford, I do not know what you were thinking but you can bet that Gregoir will hear about this. And you two!” Irving barked, turning to the two silent mages who jumped at his shout, “Why is it every time I turn my back for more than five minutes you are doing something that breaks the rules here! You are both in a lot of trouble! Two weeks solitary for each of you! And Sienna is on dish-washing duty while Anaise has to organize potion components with the Tranquil!”

“First Enchanter-”

“First Enchanter nothing! Grab your things and follow me! You too Rutherford! ” Irving barked.

Cullen sighed, shoulders sagging. He rubbed the back of his head and started to follow Irving and his entourage’s retreating figures. 

“Alright… Come on you guys,” Cullen muttered. “We might as well- Ack!” Cullen jumped turning to look behind him. Anaise stood with a smug smile on her face, her half-charred broom behind her back, and Sienna was snickering behind her hand, mop dangling loosely from her other, “What? You?”

“Come on then,  Ser  Rutherford,” Anaise started, moving in from of him with Sienna following. She looked back at him, fluttering her eyes, “You said to never take your eyes off your opponent.”

“I can’t... Anaise!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In other news, Trespasser comes out today!  
> Thank you all for reading!


	5. Curiosity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd another short chapter!  
> But a hearty thanks out to everyone reading this!

Why weren’t there books like these at the Chantry? Alistair thought, sitting in a small dusty corner of the makeshift library reading over a book about runes and glyphs. He absorbed all the information and traced over the drawings in the book, memorizing their shapes. He bet the ones in the actual library a few floors above, had even more books! But no, he and the others were confined to this floor with the young mages (perhaps he could request for some more books to be brought down).  Mages were really interesting, he decided, and a part of him wished that he could use magic too. He wondered what kind of mage he would be, maybe one that specialized in fire--no, no lightning! No! Ice! Maybe there was a conjuring type of mage that could create food. He would have to ask one of the mages about it.

    Speak of the devil, Sienna (he had nearly learned everyone’s name by the end of his first  month) came rounding the corner with a stack of books in her arms.

    “Psst...Elfy-magey-girl!” He hissed to get her attention, she looked over at him and raised a brow, “Come here.”

    The Elvhen girl sighed loudly and walked over to the young Templar, “Yes ser?”

    “What kind of magic can you do?” Alistair asked like the world depended on it.

    “I...I Specialize in fire...magic? Why?” She cocked her head.

    “Is there conjuring magic? That can conjure food?”

    “I...I don’t believe so, you cannot create something out of not--”

    “Sienna Surana! What in the Maker’s name are you doing?!” A senior enchanter scolded and violently grabbed her arm.

    “This young Templar was asking about magic ma’am.”

    The senior enchanter’s eyes nearly bulged out of her skull and she mumbled something under her breath before dragging the mage away.

* * *

 

    Not even three hours later were the young Templars packing up to head back to their respective Chantries.

“We’re leaving so soon?” One squire questioned as they all traversed down the stairs.  And Alistair couldn’t help but feel that this was his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly that is the end of the little Templar visit.  
> Don't worry though, at least one of them will return.


	6. If At First You Don't Succeed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because we have to dedicate a chapter to Anders.  
> Thank you to everyone who's read this far.

The first time Anders had tried to escape the Tower was something almost laughable. He had managed to sneak into the Templar armory and steal a suit. Little did he take into account that armor is heavier than any robe and so when he came clattering down the halls, cursing under his breath, the Templars instantly caught him (they were laughing hysterically too). Anders swore to never think of that time again.

    The second (and third) time he was a little craftier, but the failure was so great he never spoke of the idea ever again.

    After his Harrowing, Anders thought that everything would become easier. He was a Enchanter now! A “respected” mage of the Circle! And that also gave him access to “research” materials without a higher-up’s consent (it’s not like he got it when he was an apprentice anyways). So the fourth and fifth times went a little better. He managed to get out of the Tower and to the Spoiled Princess where a few guards were “stationed” and spotted him.

    Okay, so maybe he was looking at this the wrong way. There had to be an easier way to get out, Anders pondered as he stripped the dirty sheets from his bunk and tossed them into a basket for one of the Tranquil to take to a lower floor.

    And then it hit him. Of course! He would just stow away in the laundry cart when they took it out later that month! He smiled wickedly and laughed to himself like a madman (if he really was mad, which he was not).

 

* * *

 

    “Laundry cart.” Anaise and Sienna droned in unison when asked where Anders had disappeared off to. And true to their word, there was Anders, out in front of the tower tucked away under filthy robes and sheets. The Templars lifted the mage from his hiding spot and smote him, just in case the tricky mage wanted to throw a fireball or something of that nature. Instead he just thrashed and cursed every swear word he knew (which was a lot). That’s what he gets for letting some other mage help him escape. Can’t trust anyone.

 

* * *

 

    Six times, six damn times Anders had failed escaping the tower and now every Templar had their eyes on him. But this time, oh this time he’d be gone for good. Anders had spent the last month collecting a plethora of blankets. Why?

    “You’ll see.” He chuckled, feeling rather smug as he stuffed several more blankets  into a pack. This plan was absolutely foolproof! Anders tucked the pack under his bunk and smirked. Now all that was left was to infiltrate the storage caves and find a few particular items.

 

* * *

 

    “I’m sorry Anders, you’ve been denied access to storage.” The enchanter in charge sighed.

    “What if I ask reallyreally nicely?” Anders smiled innocently and leaned uncomfortably close. The enchanter stumbled over her words and coughed nervously and he knew that he had her.

    “No one would know, I’d be quick! In and out! And we both wouldn’t have to talk to each ever again!” His voice dropped slightly and he could tell that the enchanter wasn’t thinking of the storage anymore, her face was brighter than a flame now.

    “I-I’m sorry A-Anders, I c-can’t l-le-t you…” Her voice strained and faltered.

“Are you absolutely sure of that? You sound a little tense, maybe even slightly frustrated? I can remedy that.” He smirked and leaned closer, oh yes he had her.

“Maybe a...L-little.”

“I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine.” Anders flashed a knowing grin and twitched an eyebrow, “Wha’dya say?”

A few minutes later Anders strolled from a rather private corner with a spring in his step, adjusting his robe. Now that the senior enchanter was...temporarily incapacitated, he could get what he needed. And ah-hah! There’s what he was looking for! The feather-weight rune (it’s name does exactly what it sounds like, very convenient). The mage quickly paced out of storage and back to his bunk to pack away the rune. Now the only thing left was to wait.

* * *

 

Night finally fell and it was time for Anders to make his move. He silently slipped through the halls, past Templar eyes, and up into the Harrowing chamber where the windows were unlocked. The mage pushed open one of the oversized windows and took a deep breath of the cold lake air. This was it. He was going to make it. Anders took the rune from his pack and pushed his magic inside, drawing out the enchantment. He could feel the magic of the rune travel through his veins and he felt light as...well a feather. With another deep breath Anders lept from the window and let the winds carry him for a moment before taking out the mass of blankets and using them as a sort of parachute/sail to navigate the evening air.

He was finally free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, it's half over already.  
> It's okay, we're currently working on the next installment of Pushing Boundaries!


	7. First Week

“Ser Rutherford? Are you feeling alright?” A Templar asked Cullen as he stumbled his fingers over the clasps of his chestplate.

    “I...What? Oh yes...Sorry, I’ve just been having a hard time sleeping these past few days.”

    “Ah, it’s strange sleeping with all these...walking abominations around isn’t it?” But Cullen didn’t hear the other Templar. Instead he began to think about the nightmares that have been plaguing him for the past days.

 

* * *

 

    He ran as fast as his body would carry him, the demons were not too far behind. Cullen looked over his shoulder and regretted the decision because each demon wore the face of someone he knew. His mother, father, sisters, brothers, the Revered Mother, the Knight-Commander, and several other faces he didn’t have time to recognize. A door appeared in front of him and Cullen thanked the Maker as he drew closer. He passed the door frame and the door slammed shut behind him.

    He awoke with a start.

    The next night only seemed to continue the dream.

    The room was damp and dark. Cullen stood absolutely still, hoping to somehow sense where he was. A soft, green light flickered in the distance and the Templar felt himself drawn to it. Slowly, he began to move forward, but his legs felt heavy like he was wading through mud. However that didn’t deter him. Cullen had to reach the light. It called to him, a beacon in the darkness, and ever so slowly the light grew stronger as it drew closer. Soon the light was just a few feet away and Cullen could make out the flickering form of a person. It appeared to be reaching out to him, but as soon as he stretched out his own arm to take hold of the figure he jolted awake.

    He sat up in his bunk for a moment, trying to calm his breathing, before flopping back again hoping that maybe sleep would come again. But it didn’t and Cullen carried on with the rest of his day, wondering who the figure was in his dream.

    That evening when the Templar settled down for the night, he did his best to return to the strange dream. However the Fade seemed to have other plans.

    He was back home with his family. The day before he was taken to the tower. Everyone had just finished up the meal and were now excitedly chattering away. Cullen excused himself and headed out towards the lake. As he headed down the path he saw that same green light on the edge of the water. Even though he could barely make out a figure, Cullen could tell that it was smiling at him. He had to know what this light was and broke out into a sprint towards the docks. The land around him warbled and warped before demons (why was it always demons?) tore through the earth and lashed out at him. Instinctively, Cullen reached for a sword, but there was nothing there. The demons drew closer and the Templar could feel their claws scraping against his flesh. He screamed and lashed out, doing all he could to fight off the horde. But it was no use, he was quickly overwhelmed.

    Cullen screamed and fell off his bunk onto the stone floor. The other Templars just laughed.

    “Alright. Where are you…” Cullen paced around in the darkness of his dreaming mind.

    “Ser Templar? Are you alright?” A mage (it sounded female) approached him. Perhaps...he wasn’t dreaming.  He looked around, he was in the Tower, on his post by the library. Had he blacked out during his watch and not realized it? Maker he hoped not.

    “Ser...Are. You. Alright?” The mage asked slowly and Cullen tried to focus on her, but found he couldn’t.

    “I...I’m not sure. Is this a dream?” He looked up at the ceiling.

    “Of course it is. That’s why it’s so empty.” The mage answered as casually as if he had asked if the sky was blue, “You’ve been having quite the difficult time this past week.” Her voice sounded so familiar.

    Cullen tensed, “How...How do you know that?”

    “Because I was there. I saw those demons.”

    “And you didn’t help?” A hint of anger tinged his voice.

    “I…” She faltered, “Couldn’t. I don’t know what that would have done to you.”

    Cullen was silent, he wasn’t sure of what to make of this. The mage spun on her heel and began to walk away.

    “Wait...Who are you?” The Templar called.

    “A friend. Kind of.” And with that the mage vanished in a flash of green light.

 

* * *

 

    Cullen stood at his normal post by the Library, eyes scanning the halls as mages walked by. He was still unused to the sensation of feeling the Veil around him shifting from so much magic in the area. His thoughts occasionally drifted back to his dreams, trying to pin the voice of the mage in his dream to one of the mages in the Tower. The mystery was beginning to really bother him. A gut feeling told him that it was one of the mages in the Tower. A loud shriek and muffled crash brought Cullen back to reality and he instinctively ran into the library where the shriek came from.

    On the floor lie several mages and a few Templars sprawled out under a heap of books.

    “Oh...Ow…” Anaise’s head popped up from under a rather large spellbook, “Sienna? You alright?” the other Elvhen mage slowly crawled out from the pile, looking fairly disheveled.

    “Think we’re banned from stacking duty?”

    “How much you wanna bet they’ll say Blood magic was involved?”

    The Flame mage held up her hand, “Oh no! Look papercuts! Blood magic indeed! I can feel the demons already!” she dramatically flailed and several mages snickered then everyone began cleaning up the mess.

    “I saw those demons. Book demons. Worst kind.” Anaise glanced over at Cullen and flashed a humoured smile. The Templar however, froze. I saw those demons. He stared at the Ice mage and felt the colour drain from his face.

    Of all the people to dream about...why her? Oh Maker, why her?


	8. Lesson Learned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in the delay of updates, life's been busy.

Gregoir liked Cullen. In fact, he had taken a liking to the boy during the brief stint of trainees living a the Circle with the mages. Cullen was smart, cautious, faithful, and kind, even to the Circle’s Tranquil whom the mages had a hard time dealing with. But, Gregoir mused, looking outside of the door to his office, that kindness and faith led to a certain naivety when dealing with the mages he was supposed to be protecting.

Speaking of mages and Cullen, there went the boy in question, roaming to his scheduled post in the Library. There, Gregoir knew, Cullen would stand guard dutifully, protecting the mages from themselves and each other. Yet in the Library laid the problem. Gregoir called out, “Rutherford, come here a moment.”

Cullen turned wide-eyed at the doorway before entering. A quick salute before he asked, “You needed me Commander?”

“Cullen, I want to have a word with you, ah, man to man for a moment,” Gregoir huffed, standing up from his position behind the large oak desk.

“What about, ser?”

“Cullen, you’re a good lad. Took your Templar vows well, do as you should with the mages, but I noticed something recently,” Gregoir paused to look at Cullen’s stone stiff figure, “You… ah how do I put this? Do not give in to temptation Cullen, even if that temptation is a pretty little mageling. It is not supposed to be. It would be an abuse of power and the mages, well they can’t have relationships of the romantic kind anyway. Against Circle rules. They can never get married or hold a title. And if they have a child, well it just gets taken away and placed in a Chantry far away.”

Cullen’s face blushed crimson before it turned pale. “Ser, I-I promise I haven’t-”

“I know lad,” Gregoir interrupted him, a hand thrown up to stop his rambling. “I know you haven’t, but the issue is I see that it could happen. I want to prevent it from getting that bad because it is my duty to overlook you and the mages here.”

“Ah, y-yes Ser,” Cullen said, head bowed.

Gregoir walked over and clasped his hand on Cullen’s armored shoulder. “Good. Now off to your post Rutherford.”

“Yes Ser,” Cullen barked out, saluting, then turning on his heel to march off to his post at the Library. Gregoir watched him leave, hands clasped behind his back. He felt for the boy, he really did, but it was better to nip those things in the bud before they bloomed and caused too much of a mess. Now it was up to Wynne to talk to Anaise and hopefully all would turn out well.


	9. Templar Tipping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rather long chapter with mages getting into trouble.

_“Every few years at Kinloch Hold, after so many failed Harrowings, the Tower would engage in a ritual known as the “Cleansing”. All mages were to be smited and kept under the effects for three days while the Templars used their abilities to purge the Tower of any hiding spirits or demons. While this goes on, no one is allowed to sleep longer than a thirty minute nap out of fear a demon might slip through a dream. I believe that to be utterly ridiculous since it is more dangerous for a group of sleep-deprived mages and Templars to be sharing close quarters, but the First Enchanter will not listen to my requests--stubborn ass. Just wait until **I’m** the First Enchanter.” _

Cullen glanced over Anaise’s shoulder as she read the journal from the library. He had to stifle a laugh so that the elf in front of him would not catch on that he was reading along. It was one of the more interesting parts of the day when he would stand guard in the library and Anaise would sit down and read for a few hours, sometimes she would talk to the books as if she was having a conversation and--no. He was not to think like this any more, Gregoir had told him the ill of his ways. But the journal she was reading was rather interesting, no harm in finishing it.

    _“The first day of the Cleansing was not as bad as I had thought. The Templars started at the bottom of the tower and began to move up. I never realized how much I appreciated sleep until I could only have thirty minutes of it. However, we did seem to get a lot more done in the longer span of time. The second day however...Many of my fellow mages came up with a game. ‘Templar Tipping’ they called it. Since the Templars cannot sleep either they often nod off at their posts. The mages will then barrel down the halls, feet heavy with exhaustion and knock into a Templar. Whoever knocks the most over gets to have their pick at whatever the others had bet in the pool. Christine threw in her entire hand-made Tarot set and Marq donated a few charms he had made to name the more unique items. Most just toss in some coppers from their satchels. So far I think Neyri is winning, she almost managed to knock over ten Templars.”_

    Anaise snickered and tucked the journal away in the bookshelf and ran off, probably to tell all the other mages about what she had found. Cullen remained at his post, and when no one was looking, he grabbed the journal and finished reading the entry.

    Well, that’s an interesting turn of events…

 

* * *

 

    “Alright, today we’ll be initiating a Cleansing.” Knight-Commander Gregoir’s voice boomed to the entirety of the Tower, “All mages are to remain still as the Templars begin smiting. Do not worry, the Cleansing shall only take three days.” Anaise nearly zoned herself out of listening to the Knight-Commander, not particularly caring for what he had to say. She was scheming her own plan to start a new game of Templar Tipping amongst the other mages. Anaise glanced over at Sienna, who had a wicked smile on her lips which meant she was thinking the same thing, then to Jowan and snickered when he gave an approving nod.

    In the middle of her plan, Anaise winced when she felt the tip of a blade press into her upper arm as an armored hand lifted her own. She looked up at the helmed Templar, still recognizing him as Cullen, and felt her cheeks heat up (from her Mana being drained of _course_ ) when he squeezed her hand before letting go. Everything inside her felt weak and a pang of nausea erupted in her stomach. Several of the younger mages fainted from being drained and a few Templars placed their hands on their weapons.

Anaise sneered, “Jumpy tin-cans”.

With the smiting over, it was time to step into phase two of Templar Tipping: Sleep Deprivation.

 

* * *

 

“Ah, back from your beauty sleep Jowan?” Sienna yawned out a laugh, “You look positively radiant!” her head slumped forward and hit the desk with a loud WHUMP which startled her (and several others in the Library) awake.

“This is terrible. I couldn’t even dream. But Diana did add this to the pool.” Jowan rummaged around his pack and pulled out a beautifully hand-crafted necklace. He handed it to Anaise who tucked it away in a hollowed out book. A great majority of the mages in Kinloch had agreed to the game and had made their own contributions to the pool. It was only a matter of time until the real fun started.

“Well, time to get this ball rolling.” The Flame mage laughed and staggered to her feet. She rubbed her eyes and looked around the large room. Stationed by the door, a Templar had nodded off (easily recognized by his helm tipping forward) and had just become the first target of the game. Sienna yawned  loudly and began stumbling towards the napping guard. The soft pads of her feet against the stone grew quicker and quicker as she braced for impact.

A loud ‘CLANK!’ followed by the echoing clatter of the Templar’s helm rolling down the corridor woke the rest of the drowsy residents of the floor. Anaise and Jowan broke into a roaring laughter while the poor Templar scrambled back to his feet. Other mages exchanged knowing smirks to one another before resuming their previous activities.

Oh it was going to be an interesting game.

 

* * *

 

“The Cleansing will be complete in about two hours!” Knight-Commander Gregoir announced as he walked through the halls. Every mage and Templar breathed a sigh of relief. The entirety of Kinloch looked utterly terrible, everyone had dark, sagging circles under their eyes and the echoing of yawns haunted the halls. It had become increasingly easier for the mages to topple over the dozing guards and it was getting harder to keep track who was winning.

“I think Thressa has the...most cans right now.” Jowan let out a groaning yawn.

“Noooo...Reagent does.” Anaise hissed and rubbed her eyes.

“No! I do!”Another mage piped up before starting a roar of other mages crying that they had tipped the most Templars.

“Hey! Hey!” The Ice mage called out, “Whoever...knocks over...Gregoir wins.”

Every mage stared horrified as the Knight-Commander in question rounded the corner. They all pressed to opposite sides of the hall as the head Templar marched stoicly past. No one dared to even take a step, for who knew what would happen if someone tried to tackle the literal iron curtain of a man.

Wuff! A Mabari hound’s bark resounded as skittering claws echoed off the floor.

Wuff! Wuff!

“Knight-Commander lo--”

CRASH!

Gregoir was sent sprawling to the ground, Templars swarmed around the fallen Knight-Commander with a Mabari pup furiously licking his face while the mages looked at one another for who was responsible.

“Knight-Commander Gregoir! I am so sorry, we were training this pup to sniff out demons and it just slipped from my grasp and--”

“Rutherford...just...get this Maker-forsaken hound.” Gregoir hissed and shoved the small  pup off, Cullen scrambled and plucked the Mabari from the ground and gently batted its nose.

“Bad dog.” He grumbled while the corners of his lips turned up slightly. The pup whimpered softly as the Templar carried it away. The rest of the mages stared in awe at what had transpired as a few whispered “So what now?” while others shrugged and began stumbling away.

“The Cleansing is now complete, you may resume what you were all doing.” The Knight-Commander boomed and marched through the corridor, as if on cue almost every mage fell where they stood only to be consumed by the sleep they had long awaited.

* * *

 

“...Well that sucked,” Sienna grumbled as she flipped open the hollowed book, “And this sucks more.” The book was empty, every donation made was gone.

“Anaise? Did you return the bets?” Jowan asked as he picked his head up from the table.

“Nope, but I was reading the rest of the entry. Turns out when the game first started, a Templar won in the exact same way.” Anaise turned the journal to her friends.

“Do you thin--”

“Nooo he’s too stuffy.” The human mage laughed.

 

* * *

 

[A letter is attached to the bottom of this chapter]

_Dear Cullen,_

_Glad to see you’ve finally written back, your payment for your services has been delivered home and wow, combined with what father and Eadric make has really helped us out. I also want to thank you for the package of trinkets and coin, but I am curious as to how you acquired them. Was it a fellow Templar trying to woo you with gifts, or perhaps a mage? I kid you brother. We are all glad to know you are doing well and congratulations on your new station at Kinloch._

_Take care!_

_Love,_

_Mia_


	10. Tasket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you out to everyone reading this fic!  
> I know this story has been a short ride (we only have two chapters left)  
> but we hope you enjoyed it.

It was not a normal day at the Circle. A sort of fluttering, nervous excitement had fallen over the it, much like the morning fog from the Lake Calenhad below.

 

* * *

 

    “Wake up Anaise! Get up!” Jowan hissed, shaking the mage into wakefulness.

    “Hmm, wassat?” Anaise mumbled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. Before her stood Jowan, two years her senior, looking extremely nervous. Behind him was Sienna, who kept looking over her shoulder towards the door.

    “What’s wrong you guys?” Anaise asked, concern floating into her voice.

    “You know how Cullen has been acting all fidgety all week? We finally got it out of him!” Jowan said in a rush, Sienna nodding along with wide eyes.

    “Wha-”

    “Your Harrowing is today! Gregoir with some of his lackeys are coming to get you now!” Jowan practically shouted at her, his voice growing towards hysteria.

    “My Harrowing?” Anaise repeated, her voice pitching upwards with disbelief. “I’m only 18! That’s ridiculous!”

    “There’s no time!” Sienna barked, glancing at the door once more. “At least get yourself together before they get here and take you the Chamber in your nightgown!”

    Anaise practically bounded out of bed, running behind a changing curtain and pulling on her apprentice robes. “Are you guys absolutely sure? Completely positive it wasn’t just Cullen pulling your leg or something?”

    “No!” Called Sienna as Anaise washed her face and tried to calm herself as well as her unruly bed-hair. “I mean, he was stuttering all over himself when I finally got it out of him. That man couldn’t lie if his life depended on it. It’s gotta be-!”

    The distinctive clank of armor, and a small gasp made Anaise’s blood go cold. As calmly as possible, she pulled on her slippers and walked out from behind the curtain. Standing there as Knight Commander Gregoir, looking fairly irritated at Sienna and Jowan. He was flanked by three Templars , the last an overly anxious looking Cullen. His eyes were wide and apologetic. Staring at his ashen face made her stomach drop.

    “Well I see you have already been informed…” Gregoir grumbled, a glare at Sienna and Jowan who stood to one corner of the large dormitory, trying and failing to look inconspicuous. “But no matter, you’re up and ready now. Come.”

    Anaise walked slowly forward. Her normally glib manner gone, instead replaced by the bone-deep fear that was instilled in all mages at the Tower: fear of the Harrowing and what it might bring. No one was allowed to talk about what went on during the Harrowing. Those who had survived the experience and made their way to Senior Enchanters took a vow of silence on the matter. All they were allowed to know is that is was the one true way for the Templars and the Circle to know that a mage was vigilant and strong against demons and possession. (To be honest, Anaise knew that they just wanted to make sure mages were “safe” and if not, made safe through Tranquility, which was a whole different thing Anaise was uncomfortable about.) All the apprentices knew about the whole thing was that sometimes mages didn’t make it out alive, for various reasons. With this thought in her head, Anaise slowly trod towards the Harrowing Chamber, circled by Templars.

 

* * *

 

    The Harrowing Chamber was located at the top of the Tower. It was huge and open, with intricate stain-glass windows. It was by far the most beautiful room in the whole Tower, or at least, the most beautiful room Anaise had seen. As she took in the space, she noticed First Enchanter Irving. He stood off to one side, and after spying Anaise’s pale face, he smiled, making him look more like a grandfather than an executioner.

    “Irving?” Anaise started confused, and he joined the small party’s steady march towards the center of the chamber.

    “Do not worry. We would not have asked you to come if we did not think you were ready,” Irving replied softly, a small smile on his face. His confidence helped ease her fears, however the shining blade of the Templars’ swords did not.

    “Here we are,” Irving said breaking the tension. He stood next to a large basin of something that glimmered with it’s own light. Lyrium, Anaise recognized.

    Gregoir then moved across from Irving. “Well, you know why are you here, those two little weasels told you that much, but what you don’t know is how this works.”

    Irving took over then, “The Harrowing is to test your metal, my dear. By using the lyrium in this basin, we will send you to the Fade.”

    “You’re sending me to the Fade?” Anaise asked, trying to not let her hopefulness leak into her voice. The Fade? She had been there many times already! She visited it in dreams and had started to learn Fade Walking, an ancient Elvhen technique, when she was just 13. She had learned Shapeshifting from Fade Spirits at 15! If all she had to do was traverse the Fade, Anaise was golden!

“Yes child,” Continued Irving. “From there you must defeat the demons who tempt you to pass. If not-”

    “If not, and you are possessed or turned, the Templars here will stop you,” Gregoir finished. Anaise paled again. She was confident in her abilities but not in Gregoir.

    “You won’t kill me unless I’m possessed right?” Anaise asked slowly, unsure if she should try running. She knew Gregoir didn’t really care for her much. But as if sensing her thoughts, one of the three Templars, not Cullen she noticed, moved to guard the stairs.

    “Yes Anaise,” Gregoir sighed. “Believe it or not but we do not want to kill you or any other mages. Irregardless of how we feel about you or any mages, you are all people in the eyes of the Maker.”

    A short pause, then Anaise looked at Irving. “So I just…?”

    “Touch it, yes,” he responded. So she did and before she knew it she was in the Fade with her body unconscious on the chamber floor.  

 

* * *

 

    “I can’t believe you’re an Enchanter now!” Sienna raved, as she helped Anaise move from the dormitories to her own small room on the next floor.

    “Yeah. Once they told me I was going to go into the Fade I knew I could do it” Anaise smiled at her friend. “It’s not like I haven’t been there before or anything!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going to be a little while until The Blight gets put up  
> (Oh my gosh there's so much content, bioware why did you give it so much content)  
> but hopefully the wait will be worth it and you will enjoy the actual longer chapters that  
> we poured our love (and souls) into.


	11. Templars and Spirits and Demons  (Oh my!)

“The First Enchanter needs to see you Sienna.” A Senior enchanter said as he approached, “Please follow me.” The Flame mage rose from her seat next to Anaise (who had fallen asleep with her face in a book) and followed the Senior enchanter through the halls.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on, it was only a matter of time until she was collected for her Harrowing (“You’re already so adept in magic, you’ll do great when your Harrowing comes.” the First Enchanter had said.) The realization was only further solidified when they reached a staircase and there stood a small group of Templars, one of which was Cullen--who looked slightly concerned (no wonder she hadn’t seen him for the past few days, last time there was a Harrowing she got him to spit out the details). The other Templars just stared at Sienna like she was going to attack on the spot, but the mage just shrugged and sighed out a soft “Let’s get this over with.”

 

* * *

The process of entering the Fade wasn’t all that bad (besides the terrible itching at the back of her skull), but being there in the Fade was something else. Sienna stumbled around a little, adjusting to the strange sensation around her. She felt like she was in a wavering state of twilight and all her senses were in overdrive. The sickly green of the landscape was just a little too crisp, the sound of chattering just a little too loud, and everything smelt faintly of Lyrium and blood. Sienna wobbled and fell to her knees, heaving a few times, but she had to press on.

When she finally rose to her feet, everything felt a little more natural. She could keep two feet on the ground and summon up her fire at will, which was good enough for her. Sienna did her best to navigate, but everything felt like it was going in circles.

“Trust yourself! I know you can!” Anaise’s voice whispered through the Fade and Sienna whipped her head around just fast enough to catch a glimpse of a bright green form flickering out of existence. And with that note, everything seemed to fall into place, the Flame mage put one foot in front of the other, trusting only herself. 

Navigating the Fade was much like navigating through the Tower with too many curving pathways to count and far too many doors that led to nowhere. There was no sense of time and it felt like both an eternity and a second had passed when the mage finally laid eyes on a human-like figure. With nothing but a gut instinct to approach the figure, Sienna moved forth.

“Another mage thrown to the demons?” The figure sighed as it appeared more vividly. A suit of armor stood absolutely still while the voice seemed to float from around it.

“Excuse me? Who are you?” Sienna squinted as the armor flickered and faded temporarily.

“Valor. Such a poor test those Templars put you to. Toss a mage to a hungry demon, wait to see if they make it, and even then…” The spirit droned on and the Flame mage soon found herself in a small battle which ended with her victory. Valor shallowly congratulated her and Sienna was on her way again. Perhaps this was easier than she thought!

 

* * *

Or not, definitely not. The sensation of dirt under her nails was not pleasant as the mage scurried around the Fade in the form of a rat and she decided that she would NEVER do this again unless she absolutely had to. Being reduced to such a small size was unsettling for Sienna and it was even worse when she was scuttling around flames after another mousy mage whom said she could trust him (though it’s  awfully  convenient when a trapped mage says they can help you), and it only got worse when she was given up to be demon food by that same mage (although she expected it by then). However the battle with the Rage demon went by...uncharacteristically smooth, the Circle made demons out to be the strongest force that could kill a mage in an instant.

And then Mouse laughed, and Sienna almost wanted to laugh too because of course! Mouse was the demon all along! (It almost pained the mage how predictable  that was). But the battle was something more satisfying as Sienna found out drawing magic from the Fade was not only easier, but stronger too. Jets of fire burned hotter and brighter from her staff and bolts of arcane magic flew faster than before! It was only a matter of time before Mouse was reduced to ashes and the green haze of the Fade vanished.

She passed, and it was the best feeling in the world.


	12. Predictably Unpredictable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's a wrap! We thank you so much for taking your time to read and review the story!

He stood there like a grim calling card, but he was her only hope. The Grey Wardens, the legendary legion of soldiers destined to destroy the Darkspawn (talk about an alliteration!). Jowan had been a Blood mage and that was a reality that shocked Sienna to the core. He was too quiet, too reserved to do such a thing, but he did and easily took out several Templars with the flick of the wrist. No wonder the Chantry feared Blood Magic. Now Gregoir was yelling at Irving who was more or less looking pitifully at Sienna who was more focused on the fact that  “Andraste’s ass, Jowan was a Blood mage and now I’m going to pay for his actions”.

“Knight-Commander, you no longer have authority over this mage. From here on out she is a Grey Warden.” Duncan declared, “I am invoking the Right of Conscription.”

“Wait what?” was all Sienna could utter out as her jaw dropped.

“Pack your things, we leave  immediately .” And with that, the Grey Warden marched out with both Gregoir and Irving at his heels, chattering incessantly. 

“You realize that she  wasn’t  the mage I recommended.” Irving mumbled as the conversation left hearing range. The Flame mage hung her head and returned to the bunks to retrieve her belongings. A pair of Templars followed after her to make sure she wouldn’t suddenly go maleficar.

Everything felt empty and strange, suddenly the stares of once friendly peers became disdainful glares of hostile strangers. Even the helmed Templars seemed more on  edge than normal with their hand on their blades. Sienna kept her head down and ascended the stairs to the Enchanter dorms where she had just moved in. Luckily it was empty so that the young elf did not have to deal with even more hateful looks. She pulled the trunk from under her bed and plopped it on top of the sheets. She took out two changes of robes and several pairs of small clothes along with a few books. Sienna inhaled deeply, trying her hardest to contain her tears. While it was a dream come true to finally leave Kinloch, she had hoped that it would have been under much better circumstances.

“Sienna?” Anaise cooed as she entered the dorm, “You...haven’t left?”

The other mage shook her head and continued to grit her teeth, she hadn’t planned on running into her best friend.

“Well, good. I wanted to give you something.” The Ice mage reached into her pouch and pulled out a pair of bright red earrings.

“I had made these a little while ago, Bloodstone , they were going to be for your birthday...but I figured…” She trailed off. Sienna gasped and tears rolled down her cheeks as she took the small red stone earrings.

“Th-thank you.” The Flame mage hiccupped and hugged her friend. She put on one earring then held out the second, “Trade?”

Anaise slightly grinned and exchanged her Silverite stud for the Bloodstone one, “I’ll miss you. Have fun saving the world.”

After another long hug, Duncan stepped into the room.

“Come on Sienna, Ostagar is a four day trip from here.” He waved his arm and the Conscripted mage obeyed.

 

* * *

The trip to the camp at Ostagar was not unpleasant. Duncan found that the mage he had just Conscripted was more than what he had seen. The elf would babble about anything and everything, topics would bounce from herbology to stew to mindless gossip from the Circle. But the Warden did not mind, it was rather entertaining. However there was one subject that Sienna kept referring back to.

“--you see after a little trial and error, and several rather unfortunate accidents, I learned that normally offensive magic can be made defensive or even supportive!” The Elvhen girl chirped and bounced in place.

“Yes, several of our mages often set their comrades weapons ablaze as an added factor.” Duncan added.

“I just think it’s amazing. I’ll definitely have to talk to these Warden mages of yours!”

“Well you’ll get to soon, we’re only a few hours away from Ostagar.” He laughed as the young mage’s eyes grew wide at the news. It wasn’t long until everything would finally come together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you!   
> It's going to be some time before the next installment is well...  
> installed.   
> But hopefully you all don't go too far, and maybe share this with some people.  
> But thank you for all your love and support!


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